By Believing, One Sees
by Golden Wind
Summary: In a hunt against the deadliest creatures known to the universe, two different species prepare for the fight of their lives. One hunts to serve honour, the other, to serve greed. Little do these two know, that their lives were the same.
1. Take a Look Through My Eyes

_This is a story I made last year and entered it in a forum writing contest, hosted by a buddy of mine Cassiopeia1979. I actually sat at the computer for 3 weeks straight in order to finish it by the deadline and I beat it by a half an hour! Best part is I came in second place! (Silvermoonlight GJ came in first by 2 votes :D) So I thought I could share it with all fo you. I hope you enjoy it!_

_This story is dedicated to my younger brother and to the memory of his teammate Justin, who was killed on August 6, 2005 at age 17_

By Believing, One Sees

Ptar'mus ran across the _kehrite_ while spinning his _ki its–pa _over his head. He planted both feet on the ground, vaulted into the air and swung his legs over his upper body, causing him to spin half way around before he landed back on his feet. His long dread locks flew around his head as he jabbed and twirled his spear in an series of complicated movements. Ptar'mus kept on the balls of his feet as he brought back his weapon, twisted his body and kicked out, his leg making a wide, powerful arc in the air. He swung the spear around his torso once, then planted his foot firmly on the ground and spun his _ki its–pa_ up down and around his body, switching from one had to the other. His weapon became a blur around him until he threw it up in the air, turned around, stuck out his hand and caught the spear with perfect timing, ending his performance in a lunge.

The male stood up to his full seven foot ten height and gave a long sigh, his huge muscles glistening with sweat. Ptar'mus looked like any adult Yautja. His layered dread locks was decorated with the etched metal rings his species commonly wore, his skin was yellowy orange, reptilian like and his arms, legs and back were dotted with common black birth marks. He showed the strength, endurance and knowledge of a fully trained warrior; but after one glance at his blank grey eyes, it was obvious that there was something very different about him. Ptar'mus was blind.

The experienced warrior adjusted his leather harness over his chest and his brown loincloth over his hips before he turned and walked to a group of six un–bloods, who had witnessed his performance. He could sense their shock and disbelief and he felt amusement rise in his chest.

"How...how did you do that Leader?" asked one male un–blood.

Ptar'mus laughed when he heard the amazement in the student's voice, "I may be blind young one, but I can still see as well as any warrior."

The un–blood shook his head in confusion, "I don't understand."

"Have you ever heard of the term, seeing is believing?"

"Yes."

"While that may be true, there are going to be times in your life when your eyes will deceive you. A perfect example would be an incident that happened to a warrior who went to the ooman planet for a hunt, about a thousand years ago. The oomans, after learning that he had arrived on their world, wanted to obtain him for their scientific ambitions. These oomans knew he could see through heat and wore suits that blocked their body heat, so the warrior could not see them. However young ones, the warrior was able to elude the oomans and eventually finished them off one by one. Can anyone tell me how he was able to do that?"

For a moment there was silence.

"Leader," said an un–blood with vibrant orange eyes, "he listened for the oomans. They are not very good at keeping silent."

Ptar'mus nodded in the direction of the voice, "Correct, he could hear them. What else did he do to defeat the oomans?"

Another, who was the shortest of the group, spoke up.

"He used his sense of smell, oomans give off a foul odour."

Ptar'mus chuckled, "Exactly youngling. Even though the warrior was handicapped with one sense, he had others that took over," he waved his hand to the training room, "as I have shown you, blindness did not prevent me from becoming a warrior and hunter. While I cannot see, I can still smell, hear, touch and taste. Using any of the other senses can provided the best form of sight. But I had to train long and hard to focus my senses so they could be used as my eyes. Every sense you have is equally important, one never dominates the other. You younglings must train these senses to be as sharp as a _shuriken_ blade, if not shaper."

Ptar'mus didn't say a word as he heard the would–be warriors whisper to each other while they absorbed his teachings. The male cleared his throat and the group became quiet.

"You are all dismissed for the day. Rest well young ones for tomorrow you will begin your _Kainde Amedha Chiva_."

The eager clicking from the un–bloods reverberated in his ears and he felt the many sandalled feet vibrate through the floor as the group left the _kehrite_. Ptar'mus remained alone on the arena. He gave a long sigh as he thought more about the Hard Meat trial tomorrow. As one of seven the Leaders on the ship, he was responsible for instructing this pack of un–bloods before they faced their _chiva._ He and the other Leaders had spent many months, instructing the un–bloods on how to fight against the _kainde amedha_ and the ways of the Hunt. The male hoped that they would all remember what was taught to them. Only the ones who trained hard and payed attention to their lessons, would survive the trial and earn their rite of passage to become Young Bloods.Ptar'mus placed his hand on the wall and felt his way around the room until he found a towel rack. He selected one and wiped the sweat of his forehead and neck, then threw the used towel in a laundry basket and felt his way to the exit. When he entered the corridor, Ptar'mus immediately felt the raised, coiling designs under his sensitive fingers as he dragged his hand over the wall. With only a single touch, the male could immediately determine his exact position in the maze of the ship's corridors. He wanted to go to the public bath to clean and soak his tense muscles before the trial and he knew it would be a long walk to the location.

As he walked through the wide, dimly lit hallway, he felt the gentle thrum of the ship's engines mingle with the vibrations of the Yautja's footsteps, under his sandalled feet; he also caught their different musks in the heavy, foggy air as they passed him. Ptar'mus grinned when he felt an all too familiar vibration come towards him from behind. He continued his pace as he sensed the tremors coming closer and closer, then at the last second Ptar'mus stepped to one side and stuck out his foot. He felt something bump against his ankle and his sensitive ears picked up a surprised yelp and thud when a heavy body fell to the floor. Ptar'mus stood over the intruder with his chest puffed out in pride.

"Nice try Jin, you almost had me there!"

The male Predator on the floor growled as he turned, his short bone and ringed dread locks swinging with the movement. Jin appeared a head shorter and slightly younger than Ptar'mus, his skin was a light green and the birth marks that covered his body were like that of a speckled frog. Ptar'mus chuckled when he sensed his friend's annoyance. He reached out with his clawed hand and Jin grabbed it to pull himself up.

"One of these days Ptar'mus, I will catch you off guard!"

The taller male laughed, "You haven't been able to sneak up on me since we were young bloods."

"Hey, you have to admit I was close!"

"Oh alright, this was the closest you have gotten with out my knowing."

Ptar'mus knew the Leader's ego had just grew larger as he turned to continue down the corridor with, Jin following beside him. Many decades ago, the two had met during a supervised hunt to a nearby planet. Jin, the hothead of the group but a very accomplished fighter, had challenged Ptar'mus to a spar, thinking that another easy win would raise his rank amongst the pack of young bloods. However he was never more wrong with his assumption. Ptar'mus fought as well as any warrior who could see and Jin was undoubtedly shocked by this discovery. The battle lasted long and ended as a tie. Since then, the young warrior came to realise that Ptar'mus was indeed a worthy fighter and later a loyal friend.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" asked the taller warrior.

Jin nodded, "Yes, Elder Mer'augh has summoned all Leaders to come to the bridge as soon as possible. He has important information to tell us about the planet we are to take the un–bloods."

Ptar'mus sighed, "Tell the Elder I'll be there shortly. I shall meet you on the bridge."

The close friends gave each other a firm shake on the shoulder, then Jin walked around Ptar'mus and disappeared through the corridor. The tall male ran his hands over the wall designs until they disappeared and to empty space. That meant he was at a new entrance and he groped at the current wall. It wasn't the right hallway and so he continued along the same path, often passing by young and old Yautja. Finally the designs changed under his fingers and Ptar'mus knew he was close to his quarters. He felt the main corridor branch off to another hallway and proceeded into it, counting down four doors until came to a stop in front of the fifth. After fumbling for the panel beside the door, he ran over the beady letters on the pad and tapped out a code. He heard the door hiss open and he stepped into his room. The interior was like any Yautja's quarters. Many skulls from his previous hunts lined the right wall of his room, a bed covered with fur blankets was situated at the far end, with a leather chair and a holographic monitor beside it and several shelving on the left wall held his many pieces of armour, weaponry and clothing. Ptar'mus took off his sandals, placed them beside the door and clicked softly as he walked from cold metal to a fur rug. The male dragged a claw lovingly over his polished skulls before disappearing into a room in the corner.

The bathroom was quite small than the one he had back home, as did most ship's facilities. There was a sink, a toilet bowl and two slabs of marble placed horizontally along the right wall. One slab was for cleansing and the other was for washing. Ptar'mus would've preferred to soak in the public baths on the ship, but he was in a hurry; Elders did not like to be kept waiting. Ptar'mus quickly took off his harness and loincloth, then stepped onto the washing slab. He ran the pads of his fingers along the wall until he came to a button and pressed it. The male purred and closed his blank eyes as warm water from a shower head poured over his face and body, relaxing his tense muscles. He pressed the same button again to stop the water and stepped onto the cleansing slab. Ptar'mus picked up a washing cloth and groped the wall for his soap dispenser. He read the raised symbols with his fingers until he found what he wanted and turned the dial to release a creamy green liquid onto the cloth. The warrior sighed as he scrubbed his body, his half lidded eyes staring at the ground.

Ptar'mus had been blind almost his entire life. He had been born with the sense of sight, but when he had just learned how to walk he was struck with a terrible fever. Although Ptar'mus survived the sickness, it robbed him of his sight and his parents devastatingly found out, when they saw him loose his balance every time he stood on his own or wouldn't react to any movement in front of his face. Needless to say, they did not know how to handle the situation and wondered what to do with him. Yautja, who had disabilities that prevented them to become a hunter, were made into slaves or executed. Both of his parents had come from strong blood lines and did not want that kind of disgrace hanging over them. But they were suddenly surprised one day, when their son actually stood up on his own and began to walk again as if he had never had lost his sight. Although he occasionally ran into walls and furniture around the dwelling, Ptar'mus learned very quickly in his infancy to use his other senses to identify his surroundings. He had found that each room would smell or feel slightly different than the other, and it wasn't long until he was able to successfully manoeuver through his home. His mother and father noticed this adaptation and decided to use this amazing ability to their son's advantage.

Speech was actually hard for Ptar'mus than most thought. While he could hear the guttural sounding language from his mother, father and other Yautja, he could never see how their mouths moved to form the words properly. To solve this problem, Ptar'mus's mother would sit him on her lap, with his hands on her face and she would speak to him while he felt how her mandibles moved. The young male would then place his hands over his mouth and mimic what he had sensed. Ptar'mus was very quick to learn and it wasn't long before he could speak perfectly. His mother had also used the same method to identify objects around and outside the house. She would place small objects in his hands or have him grope over larger objects, tell him the identifying word and he would repeat it. Reading had been somewhat a challenge for Ptar'mus. His parents had made imprints of the alphabet on sheets of metal and that enabled him to feel the different letters and numbers with his fingers. It had been the same with writing; although he could never use a writing utensil his parents were able to obtain a special computer with raised lettering on the keys. It had taken a lot of practice for him to master the computer, but that was the easy part of his learning.

Before Ptar'mus was trained to fight, his mother would sometimes take him to the interior of the city so he could learn more about the world he lived on. It had been quite a strange sight for other Yautja to see Ptar'mus fondle and smell everything, but his behaviour was accepted more often then not. Many Yautja in the city knew of the blind suckling, since such a thing was very rare amongst the race of warriors and hunters. How else was a child suppose to learn about his home when he lacked a very important sense? However those many people had mumbled to themselves that Ptar'mus would never be a successful hunter, much less a fighter. But his parents knew their son had great potential to be a warrior and with strong determination they began his training.

The male smiled and stopped scrubbing for a moment when he remembered his training days. While most parents would have taught defensive moves to their sucklings first, Ptar'mus's parents took a different approach. They wanted to have their son train his sensitive hearing, touching and smelling to be his eyes, so they started to teach him the ways of tracking. His parents would take turns hiding in the thick forests near their home, and Ptar'mus had to hunt them down. He had acted very much like an animal, sniffing the air and ground to try and catch his parents' distinctive musks. He would strain his hearing to catch and separate the sounds of the forest; he would place his hands and feet on the ground, staying absolutely still so the vibrations of the vast forest could flow over his sensitive skin. From there, Ptar'mus could pick out the movements of his mother or father and take off into the woods. He never ran into the trees as one might have thought. Ptar'mus had figured out on his own to use his own vibrations to locate stationary objects; like a bat would use echolocation, except his tremors were caused by his feet.

The training had been long and gruelling for Ptar'mus. His mother and father would constantly fool him with false trails by using their tracks, scent and even their vibrations. Time and time again the young male would fall for the traps and become lost in the immense forest, until he would be brought back by his parents, who were never far from him. He remembered he would become so frustrated with himself that he just wanted to give up and stop the training. But Ptar'mus's parents would not let him quit and they pushed him harder to sharpen his senses. After months of tracking, Ptar'mus finally learned how to distinguish a fake trail from a real one and soon his parents could no longer elude their son.

Defensive training followed after that. Ptar'mus now used his much more sensitive hearing to listen to the punches and kicks his mother and father would make while they spared. He had found each movement had it's own tone; a kick made a whirling noise, a push made a slapping sound, and high attack made the air vibrate faster than a low attack. From these disturbances in the air, he was able to gauge the distance of an on coming attack and allow him to block with counter attacks. Offensive and weapons training came along very easily to Ptar'mus, now that he understood how to use sound and tremors as his eyes. The _shuriken_ blades and _ki its–pa_ were his favourite weapons because he liked the way they sounded in the air.

Unfortunately, when he had reached the age to become a blooded member of the clan, he was denied by many Elders to even enter a ship. All they saw in Ptar'mus was his blindness, it didn't matter if he had the ability to fight. His parents had argued with the Elders to allow him to join a blooding hunt and they came close to losing their ranks in doing so. Finally, after two years of continued protests he was accepted onto a ship, but even then the Elder, Leaders and the un–bloods he was training with, labelled the sightless Ptar'mus a poor excuse for a Yautja.

The blind male sighed as he finished sudsing and stepped onto the washing slab. He remembered feeling very nervous and apprehensive when he had entered the giant ship for the first time. The smells, the sounds, even the things he touched were completely different; and the new environment frightened him. There was nothing familiar on the ship and his parents were no longer there to comfort him. Ptar'mus squeezed his eyes shut as the water washed the soap off. He could never forget how the other un–bloods would gang up on him and tease his disability; often beating him until cuts and bruises covered his body. None of that helped him during training sessions. Combined with previous beatings and the unfamiliar sounds and vibrations from his sparing partners, Ptar'mus frequently panicked and lost many fights. He had even once become lost when he wanted to go to his quarters, but ended up in the engine rooms on the lower levels of the great cruiser. All of these incidences had convinced the Elder, his teacher and the rest of the un–bloods that he was not fit to become a warrior.

It was when Ptar'mus was in his quarters, thinking about his home, did he finally had enough of his weak attitude. He was not going to bring dishonour to his family after they had worked so hard and never stopped believing in him. The young male refused to allow everyone on the ship think he was worthless. With his renewed confidence, Ptar'mus spent days coping with the differences. He would explore the ship with one hand on the wall, picking out identifiable designs so he could easily find his way around. He would memorise the different footsteps and smells produced by his peers and teachers, he strained his ears to pick up the sounds his partner's limbs created in the air and on the ground as they fought; determining their speed, accuracy and even pinpointing openings and weaknesses vulnerable to attack. Ptar'mus would spend hours in the _kehrite_ alone, practising with the weaponry on the ship to improve his balance, focus and strength. It wasn't long until the young male won a few sparing matches and build a new respect from his Leader and the Elder.

Then came the day of the _Kainde Amedha Chiva_. Ptar'mus was both nervous and excited. This was his chance to prove that blindness will never prevent him from becoming a hunter. At the end of the _chiva_ he had shocked everyone on the ship, not only because he was one of the few to survive, but because came back with more trophies than any un–blood! Ptar'mus was then marked with the symbol of his clan and held with high honours. But nothing gave the young male more pride when he had returned home and received praise from his entire family.

The male turned off the water and dried the rest of his body with a towel. Even though he had proven himself, he still had to work long and hard to gain the status he had now. The male inhaled deeply as he walked out of the bathroom and groped to his shelves, where he found a new loin cloth, his small utility belt and a chest plate. The plate was made of a light alloy, brightly polished and bore the symbol of his clan; a crescent moon with an extended _shuriken_ blade in the centre of the moon's points. The chest plate once belonged to his father and it was a gift from him after he had completed his blooding trial, so many decades ago. His father had told him to wear it with pride and honour when he was old enough and Ptar'mus took it to his father's words. He never wore it on hunts, only on ceremonies and meetings with the Elder. Ptar'mus felt his way to the door and it opened automatically as he approached it. He quickly slipped on his sandals before entering the hallway and walked to the main corridor, hearing the click his door made as it locked. He soon found his way out and he kept his hand on the wall as he headed for the bridge. The male was half way there when he caught a wonderful scent. Ptar'mus raised his head and smiled with his eyes.

"Hello Ticka," he greeted.

An eight foot and a half female with sandy yellow, brown striped skin and wearing a white chest veil and a long brown loin cloth brushed up against his arm. Her honey coloured eyes sparkled as a smile appeared on her beautiful features.

"Hello Ptar'mus, how did you know I wasn't Jin or someone else?"

"Jin does not smell as lovely as you."

Ticka raised and eyebrow, "I'd be very concerned if he did."

The couple laughed as the continued their pace through the corridor, then up a flight of steal steps. Ticka held the male's arm for guidance and even though he didn't need it, he still enjoyed the touch of her warm, smooth skin on his own. Ticka and Ptat'mus were mates and Leaders on the giant ship, but the female lead a different un–blood team. Both of them met each other some twenty–three years ago when they were part of a chosen team to eliminate a Hard Meat nest on a desert planet. The colony had become so out of control, almost the whole planet was covered with the _Kainde Amedha_ and it was too dangerous for any warrior to hunt on. Over three hundred Yautja left the ship to secure the area around the main nest entrance and Ticka and Ptar'mus were amongst the ground crew. Like most of their race, Ticka was very sceptic of the blind male's abilities, but she was very stunned and impressed when she saw him fight against the swarms of Hard Meat. Ticka had never seen anyone fight like him; in fact she had thought Ptar'mus fought better than the warriors who could see. After hours of battling, the area was clear enough to lay down enough explosives to blow the planet to atoms. Many warriors were lost, but Ptar'mus and Ticka were amongst the survivors. During the months in space and later on the Homeworld, the two grew to love each others company. Together they had two children, a daughter and son. Their daughter was currently on her first lone hunt on the ooman world and their son was on a different ship about to become a blooded warrior, should he survive.

"What do you think Elder Mer'augh is concerned about? He rarely calls all Leaders to the bridge," said the sightless male.

Ticka shrugged, "I heard rumours that there are not only Hard Meat populating the planet, but oomans as well."

Ptar'mus's eyes didn't move as he turned his head, "Oomans?"

"Yes, I heard there is some kind of military and science facility not too far from the main nest."

The male growled, "A science facility can only mean one thing, the oomans are still trying to find a way to control the Hard Meat."

The large female nodded, "I agree, and Paya help us all if the succeed. We're here Ptar'mus."

Ticka let go of her mate's arm and he groped his way to the bridge. As he entered the large room, he could smell the individual musks of the Leaders and hear their guttural clicks and growls, mix with the mechanical beeping caused by the machines that surround the entire room. His ears also caught the familiar noises coming from a large holographic monitor and the shifting feet of the other Yautja who surrounded it. Ptar'mus caught Jin's scent and he travelled in that direction. He reached into a large pocket of his utility belt and pulled out a flat screen, with a long cord. Jin automatically reached for the cord and plugged the end into an outlet on the consol. The screen Ptar'mus held was specially made for meetings like the one he was attending. Generally, all meetings with the Elders involved the use of a holographic consol and obviously the male had no way of seeing the images. The screen contained millions of tiny metal beads that, could mold into any shape with the help of an imaging computer. When a hologram appeared on the consol, the information would pass through the cord, into the image computer and cause the beads to form a small 3D model on the screen. This enabled the male to feel the image to get an idea of what the others were seeing.

Ptar'mus felt the floor vibrate as Elder Mer'augh entered the bridge and stood at the head of the consol. His very long, dark grey dread locks was heavy with metal rings and strings of coloured beads; his face and forehead was covered with wrinkles, bore numerous scars from his many years of hunting and the white tusks of his mandibles showed a slight discolouration. The armour he wore on his chest and thighs was etched with many complicated symbols, outlined in gold and the black cloak that touched to the ground was held securely on his shoulders with bright silver shoulder guards that were carved to look like claws. The entire room bowed to the ancient Yautja and he replied with a stoop of his own.

"Greetings fellow warriors," the Elder addressed, "I have summoned you all hear on a very important matter. A few days ago our scanners picked up a most unsettling discovery."

The room went dim and the consol projected a very large hologram of a lush, tropical planet. The holographic sphere turned slightly to reveal three long, clunky looking spaceships. Ptar'mus felt the image of the ships and the design was undoubtedly known to him; they were ooman battle cruisers. The blind male heard the grumbles of the Leaders circle around the room and he could smell the anger and worry in their musk. Mer'augh growled for attention.

"The rumours that have been circulating around the ship are unfortunately true. The oomans have built a science facility and several military bases in this area here."

The planet flattened out and became a forest of tall trees and mass foliage that surrounded six buildings. Five smaller square buildings encircled a rather large structure in the middle. The building in the middle appeared to be the science centre, while the rest were the military bases. Ptar'mus ran his fingers over the model on his screen many times so he could remember it. He heard warrior speak.

"Elder, how is it that the oomans found this planet? It has been a well kept secret for centuries."

Mer'augh sighed, "I do not know. We hypothesise that the oomans found it by accident. What we do know is that the oomans have built this research facility to study the Hard Meat and have been doing so for quite some time."

Ptar'mus could smell the rising anger of the other Yautja and he too became angry. The Elder growl again for silence.

"The blooding hunt will still continue as planned. The four Leaders will take their un–bloods to the nest while the rest of us stay here and form a plan on how to destroy these buildings before the oomans continue their study. May the gods save us if they do."

The Leaders hissed their agreement and the hologram disappeared. Ptar'mus trailed down the cord until he came to the end and pulled it out. Elder Mer'augh turned in his direction.

"You four Leaders shall inform the situation to your teams immediately. Make sure they understand that they are not allowed to hunt the oomans, as they are not ready to take on such prey. However, if the oomans do interrupt the _chiva_, they are permitted to obtain their skulls as trophies; remember to keep to the Codes. You are all dismissed."

All the Leaders automatically bowed to the Elder and turned to file out of the bridge. Ptar'mus put his screen away and he felt Ticka's arm slip around his. She directed him down the stairs and through a long corridor that lead to the un–blood's quarters.

"I must relay this to my team as soon as possible," said the male.

Ticka nodded, "Yes, I shall leave you to that. I too have business elsewhere to attend, but unfortunately I cannot be there to see you off when you leave for the planet. Good hunting go with you my mate."

Ptar'mus felt her mandibles trace his cheek before she let go of his arm. The blind male sighed as he felt his mate's footsteps disappear down the hallway. He then groped for the intercom and called his team together.

_There you have it Pred fans, the first chappy. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about my other fics. I felt bad for leaving you all in the dark for so long, so I hope this new fic makes up for the waiting. Tell me what you think about it in your reviews. Thanks a million!_


	2. The Dare Devil

_Wow! I didn't think I would get 7 reviews. Thanks you guys, I'm very happy to hear you are enjoying this story! Here's the second chapter, enjoy!_

Captain Jason Montelbetti peered down the barrel of his shot gun to make sure it was clean. He took a rag and wiped a bit of dirt away from the rim, then snapped the rifle back into place. He layed his gun down on the table beside his assortment of weapons. The captain had almost every weapon known to man; automatic, sniper, laser, plasma, hand guns, throwing knives, swords. You name it, he had it. Jason ran a hand over his black military cut, his mud coloured eyes showing boredom. The tall, heavily build man straightened his black muscle shirt, adjusted the belt that held up his camouflage pants and walked to his cot, his heavy boats clomping loudly on the floor of his quarters. As he sat down, he fingered the dog tags around his neck.

Jason was one of the few Marines who had signed up for the most dangerous job in the Space Core. The _Xenomorph Containment Team_, or "The Bug Catchers" as it was nicknamed. It promised everything the captain wanted, high pay and none stop action. He had spent ten years of his military life as part of the Army, taking on the most dangerous missions and shockingly coming out every single one of them alive. "What doesn't kill yah, makes yah stronger!" that was his motto. But towards the end of the decade, he had become bored and sought something new to fuel his ambition for action and adventure; and thus lead him to join the Bug Catchers. The _Xenomorph Containment Team_ was started and funded by the Extraterrestrial Science Department, when the demand to capture and study Xenos grew higher. Only the strongest, bravest and possibly the most crazy soldiers signed themselves up for the job.

Jason leaned back in his cot. The captain lead a team of the most skilled soldiers to contain and transport Xenos from the nearby nest, to the science centre. So far, very few lives from his team had been lost, but with the new head scientist it wasn't going to stay that way for long. Jason groaned, he hated Dr. Jensen with a passion! Recently, the scientist received a promotion for his latest research on Xenomorph body structure and internal functions; something he had spent twenty years of his life on. Dr. Jensen's immense brain matched his power and Jason knew the man would use it to satisfy his own greed. The captain was not some dumb brute as the doctor took him for, he knew the scientist would risk a hundred soldier's lives just to get the bugs he wanted for his experiments! There was a knock at the door and it startled the captain's thoughts.

"It's open."

Another tall, lighter muscled man, wearing the same boots, camouflage pants and a light yellow t-shirt walked into the room, giving a quick salute. His head and face was shaved of all hair, his eyes were piercing green and many scars decorated his cheeks, neck and arms. The most noticeable was a long acid burn that down the length of his right arm and his hand was missing the pinkie and ring finger. The man's name was Cameron More, second in command to Captain Jason's team. He smiled a crooked smile to his commander.

"Hey Monty, keepin' busy?" he asked in a low voice.

Jason smiled back, glad that his friend was here to lighten his mood, "Cameron you son of a bitch! What brings you here?"

The two grabbed each other's forearm in a vice grip and let go. Both of them had met each other during their first bug hunt on a temperate forest planet, some light years from Earth. Cameron was caught off guard by a Xenomorph that had lunged at him from the tree tops. Even though he had killed the bug with his pulse rifle, he could not avoid the falling body and it landed right on top of him. Unable to move from the large weight, acid blood had begun to drip over Cameron's right arm, burning away his skin and fingers. Jason came to his rescue and threw off the bug with his colossal strength, before the acid could to more damage to his arm. After that mission, the two became as close as brothers. With their combined force and friendship, no mission stood a chance at failing.

"As much as I hate to ruin your good mood, I got a video message from Dr. Jensen. He wants to talk to you about another bug hunt."

The captain groaned and turned away, feeling his eyes begin to prickle as they often did when he was angry, "That dumbass got nothin' better to do! I swear there's nothin' that'll satisfy his greed!"

Jason's eyes stung even more and he rubbed them.

"You alright Monty?"

"Yeah I'll be fine."

"What do you want me to tell Jensen?"

"I'll talk to the bastard myself!"

Jason blinked away his pain and stomped around his friend to the enclosed hallway. He passed by a few soldiers and technicians before he turned to the communications room and sat down in front of a small screen with a keyboard. Cameron followed his steamed commander, stopped at the door and watched him tap a code on the keyboard to contact the doctor's office. After a few minutes the screen displayed a man, who seemed to be in his mid forties, had a noticeable gray colour in his finely cut black hair and wore round glasses on his pudgy face. The man stared at Jason with menacing brown eyes.

"What is it, I'm busy!" Dr. Jensen barked.

Jason lowered his eyebrows, "This is Captain Jason Montelbetti responding to your message."

The scientist's features softened slightly, "Ah yes Captain, I've been waiting for your call—"

"Just tell me why you want more bugs. My soldiers gave you three last week."

Dr. Jensen felt a twinge of annoyance from being interrupted, but he pushed it aside and smiled with fake sincere, "I'm afraid that information is classified Captain, you understand."

The Marines of the centre were never told about what was done with the Xenomorphs. As far as they knew they were life forms of study, but Jason had a strong feeling they were going to be used for something much more. When bugs were involved, every piece of information about them was classified and covered with lies. Jason had heard many rumours; the disaster of the _Nostromo_, the massacre of _LV426_ and some prison planet called _Fiorina 161_, the destruction science ship _Auriga_ that tried to find a way to control the bugs and later harness them into bio–weaponry; yada, yada, yada. These "claimed" events happened so long ago, that they were dubbed as made up stories to try and shutdown the ESD and other deparments. However, there were people like the captain who knew better than to believe that.

Jason's eyes stung with anger, "That's not how I work doctor, you can forget it!"

"You don't have a choice Captain, I am your superior."

"I am not some pansy assistant you can order around doctor! I've lost five men on the last hunt because of the increase of drones around the nest and I will not risk any more on another one of your suicide missions! Until you start wearing my general's badges, you kiss my ass and rot in hell!"

Cameron's eyebrows rose, he never knew his friend's hate for the scientist went this deep. He saw Jason reach for the switch to end the communication when the scientist spoke.

"Do this job for me and I'll double your pay."

Jason's hand stopped and he turned at the screen with a confused look. Dr. Jensen was sitting back comfortably in his chair with his hands folded over his lap. He smiled.

"I have your interest, then."

The Captain narrowed his eyes, "For a scientist, you really are stupid for believing I can be bought off!"

"Alright, then I'll triple your pay. If necessary I'll quadruple it."

Jason just stared at the screen. What was on this devious man's mind? Why was he was so desperate to get more Xenos? A million things ran through his mind about why he should not take this offer. On the one hand, there were people on his team that needed the money. On the other, it wasn't like he needed it; he had enough stashed away in a private account to live off comfortably for the rest of his life. A man throwing out this much money for a mission made him concerned and suspicious. Jason glanced back at Cameron who was still standing at the door, expressionless but listening. The captain turned and glared at the doctor.

"You will only triple my team's pay. If you don't comply, then find someone else to do your damn chore!"

Dr. Jensen raised his eyebrow, "Very commendable Captain. Fine, it will be done. Anyone on your team who comes back alive will have the money wired to their account. I can even gift wrap it for them."

Jason waved his hand dismissively, "Spare me the sarcasm dipshit, just tell me what the plan is."

Dr. Jensen was losing his patience fast with this military brute. He inwardly wished for him to die in the mission.

"Your team shall be briefed tomorrow morning at eight hundred hours in the video room at the central base. Good evening to you Captain."

The scientist said the last words with distain and he pressed a button to end the communication. Jason was left with a blank screen and he scrunched his face when his eyes flared in pain. He put his hands to his face and massaged his eyelids and temples.

"Hey Monty, yah gonna be alright? Don't wanna blow your eyes."

The captain sighed, "Don't worry Cam, I'll be alright. It'll take a lot more to blow these eyes. Relay all this to the team, tell them to rest well tonight and be prepared."

"Yes sir," Cameron saluted and left the room.

Jason blinked a few times before sitting back in the chair, feeling a great weight press on his shoulders. Very few people in the space core knew that he was once blind. He had been born legally blind and the doctors could never figure out what caused such a thing to happen. Jason was able to see colours, moving blotches of people and writing if it was a few centimetres in front of his face. But it was a constant struggle for him to fit in with the crowd when he was growing up. He had lived in a rough part of the city and was often an easy target for bullies. Jason had attempted to follow the example of his favourite comic book character, the Dare Devil, by using his hearing to overcome his opponents. However, no matter how many times he had tried, he could not defend himself, much less fight against a gang of bullies, without the use of his eyes.

There were times when he had been attacked and beaten in back allies, had his walking stick ripped from his hands and was forced to crawl in the mud until he found it and he once had bags of rotten meat thrown at him from a speeding car. His aggressors knew he would have a hard time identifying them and sometimes they would disguise their voices so they couldn't be recognised. Even though his parents and teachers had tried to help him through the abuse, the crafty bullies still found ways to pick on him without getting caught. It came to a point where Jason couldn't stand any more of the abuse and tried to commit suicide when he was sixteen. He had swallowed a bottle full of adult Tylenol, but his mother and father found him before he passed out and they rushed him to the hospital to have his stomach pumped. The damage to his liver and kidneys was not server enough to give him permanent damage and he later recovered with proper medicine and counselling.

One day, Jason's mother and father thought out a solution in the hopes that the bullying would stop. They had saved every penny to give Jason a special kind of surgery that would give back his eyesight. The whole process involved repairing the rods and cones, replacing the retina and choroid and putting in new optic nerves. The doctors had said that the operation would take five days to perform, followed by a three month recovery. But there was a twenty percent chance that the surgy would be unsuccessful, as it varied with different types of people and blindness. Jason went for the surgery regardless of the risks; anything was worth his sight. Five days and three months later, the bandages were removed from his eyes and for the first time in his life, he saw the world around him in perfect detail! The bullies now thought twice before attacking him and slowly the abuse came to a halt. Never had Jason been more thankful to have amazing parents like them and he swore not forget the wonderful miracle they gave him. With his renewed sight, his ambition for action, adventure and exploration lead him to join the Army and later the Marines; fighting in the honour of his family.

The captain felt his eyes begin to calm down. They only hurt when he was angry, probably because the new nerves weren't use to handling too much stress. He figured he would have to be really pissed off to allow even one of the nerves blow. Jason let out a long sigh and stood up from his seat, his large boots clunking the metal floor as he walked back to his quarters, wanting to make final checks to the rest of his weaponry and equipment before retiring to bed. Some unknown feeling told him he was going to be in for the fight of his life.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > 

Ptar'mus clung onto the restraining straps that held him in his seat as the drop ship jerked upon entering the atmosphere of the planet. The hunters planned to arrive during the night to avoid being easily detected. Ptar'mus was dressed in his full _awu'asa,_ or armour. Black, heating mesh covered his entire body under his chest plate, thigh armour and his finely decorated shin and knee guards. The shoulder guards he wore were carved to look like _Kainde Amedha_ teeth and each detail was outlined in bright silver. Around his hips hung a scaled, metal loin cloth and holding it in place was his utility belt. Three shuriken blades, a smart disk, four hand held daggers and his _h'sai–de— _a scythe like sword—hung proudly on his swath. His mask was also clipped to his belt, but unlike other Yautja masks his was not equipt with the many different modes of sight. Instead his mask was made amplify sounds and smells and held no lenses. Ptar'mus heard the steady breathing come from Jin, who was sitting beside him and he could smell the nervousness and excitement in the un–blood's musks. All the younglings were dressed from head to toe with their _awu'asa_ and weapons, squirming in their seats while fidgeting with their small masks. The pilot slowed the descend and turned on the small vessel's cloaking device as he guided it through an opening in the dense canopy of trees. The second drop ship that held the other group of un–bloods set down in another location not far from them.

The pilot touch downed in the small clearing and signalled the two Leaders the all clear with a grunt. Ptar'mus and Jin unbuckled from their seats and roared at their group to evacuate. The un–bloods quickly ran out into the jungle and waited silently for their Leaders. Ptar'mus was overwhelmed by the moist, night air on his skin as he stepped out from the ship. He could smell the wetness of the earth and plants around him, he could hear the creaking of bark from the tall, thick trees and the animalistic noises of the local wildlife. He put his foot on the ground and felt it give way, hearing it squish on the soft, muddy soil. Ptar'mus gave a small smile as the familiar smells, sounds and feelings reminded him of his home. When he sensed Jin came up beside them he faced the un–bloods.

"Listen well younglings! You all have the co–ordinates to the Hard Meat nest on your wrist computers. Stick to the trees, keep cloaked and use caution. The Hard Meat will have many scouts and guards around the nest since the oomans are close by. Remember, only kill the oomans if they interfere and stick to the codes. May Paya watch over you."

He heard the thump of the un–bloods' fists on their protected chests as they bowed.

"And also with you Leader."

The crackling of the un–bloods' cloaking devices reverberated through the air as they disappeared into the jungle. Ptar'mus felt a nudge come from his friend.

"Shall we see if we can find some oomans?"

Ptar'mus grinned, trust Jin to want to hunt.

"If it'll pass the time, the younglings should be back after the sun rises."

"Race you to the trees!"

He heard Jin connect the breathing tubs to his mask while he activated his cloaking device and scuttled up a tall tree. Ptar'mus shook his head at his friend's childish behaviour as he too turned on his body cloak and activated his mask. While the sightless male was not as agile in the trees as most Yautja, he was still able to manoeuver through them well enough. It had taken Ptar'mus many years to safely judge the distance between the trees and the size of the branches with their sounds. Ptar'mus leapt expertly from branch to branch, steadying himself and listening carefully before he followed the thumps his friend made ahead of him.

_There, yet another chapter done with our second main character introduced. This will probably be the last chapter to the story for a while, finals are coming up and I have one more assignment and essay to finish before then. Thanks for reading and remember to review! _


	3. Death is Only the Beginning

_Boy, it's been a while since I got back to this story. Ah well, better lat than never. Thank you all for the awesome reviews, they are highly appreciated. Enjoy!_

A bright sun, rose into the sky of the jungle planet and shone through the rectangle windows of the video room, where thirty heavily armed soldiers waited for Dr. Jensen. Jason was situated at the front of his team, while Cameron stood beside him. The Captain's whole body was covered in thick, bulky armour, specially designed to withstand the Xenomorph's acid blood for about seven minutes. His round helmet carried a long range communicator, motion detector and night vision goggles, and crisscrossing his barrel chest was a variety of small guns and knives. Strapped to his belt was a handheld taser gun, powerful enough to stun a drone and large steel net made with an alloy too strong for a bug to cut through with it's claws and tail. Slung over his shoulder was an automatic pulse rifle—one of the most powerful hand held weapon ever created in human history. From a distance of two hundred feet, a single shot could blow a softball sized hole through a foot of steel.

The thirty soldiers, some of them women, also wore the same protective armour as their captain, carried the same pulse rifles, tasers and nets, as well as their own personal weaponry. The soldiers shifted impatiently on their feet as they waited for the "good" doctor to arrive. A door on the left side of the room suddenly slid open and the short, pudgy scientist with his open lab coat flowing behind him like a cloak, strutted into the room. He paced up a four foot high platform situated under a large view screen and he faced the group with a wide, deceiving grin.

"Good morning Captain, privates. I trust you all had a good sleep because you will need all your energy for this assignment."

Dr. Jensen took out a remote from his coat pocket, pressed a button to turn off the room's lights and the screen came to life. The Bug Hunters watched a digital image of the green planet against a blanket of space appear on the screen, then in a split second the picture zoomed into the trees to reveal a small cave opening in a clutter of rocks and thick foliage.

"My satellites have found this new entrance to the nest, and with this also came a new discovery," the scientist looked to the brutes, "a Royal Guard."

Everyone in the room gasped and mumbled to each other. Royal Guards almost never left the nest, they protected the Queen much like a bodyguard protected the President. Only when danger came inside the hive or if there was a need to move the Queen else where, did the Royal Guards show themselves. Jason knew something didn't feel right and when he glanced at Cameron, he saw the same confusion and uneasiness. Dr. Jensen spoke up again.

"For the past week, a Royal Guard has been seen skulking around this entrance," the scientist pushed another button on the remote and the image changed to a video. The first few frames showed nothing, but then three bugs crawled out of the mouth of the cave. The Royal Guard was unmistakable, he was significantly larger than his two companions and his elongated head displayed a pattern of spikes. Dr. Jensen continued as he stopped the frame.

"Capturing a specimen such as this has never been done before and studying this magnificent creature will greatly benefit this science facility!"

'No, this will benefit _you_,' Jason thought bitterly. The doctor faced the mob.

"I want you soldiers to catch and transport the Royal Guard to this facility immediately."

The Captain glared at him, "You above all people should know that seeing this kind of behaviour from the bugs is not normal. Until someone figures out the cause of this appearance, I refuse to send my team. There's no way in hell I'm losing my men on a suicide mission!"

The scientist leaned over the railing and met Jason's glare, "Oh yes Captain, you will go out there and bring back that Guard, or I'll cancel the triple pay!"

"Consider it cancelled!"

There was an equal amounts of groans and cheers from the crowd. Half the team knew it was a fool's errand to attempt such a capture, while the other half didn't care what they were thrown in to as long as they were paid enough. But like obedient followers they walked behind their commander as he turned to leave the room. Dr. Jensen sighed.

"I had hoped I wouldn't have to use this," he reached into his pocket and pulled out an electronic card, "this document gives me full authority to lead this expedition, it has been approved and signed by your general. Disobeying this assignment is equivalent to disobeying a direct order."

Jason stopped dead in his tracks and turned in shock. Dr. Jensen grinned, he had him right in the palm of his hand. The Captain pushed through his soldiers and bounded up the platform.

"Lemme see that!"

Jason snatched the card out of the scientist's hand and he quickly scanned it over. True to Dr. Jensen's words, the document gave him authorization and it was made legal with his general's signature at the bottom of the page. Jason couldn't believe it, he felt his eyes flare in pain. What kind of lies did this bastard of a scientist tell the general to give him this bullshit mandate! The once blind marine heard the doctor snicker and whisper in his ear so the others couldn't hear.

"It's not a badge Captain, but it's damn close to one. There is nothing you can do to stop me from obtaining what I want. Decline this order and each and everyone of you will be discharged. All of you can be replaced easily with the right amount of bribing, but I doubt your precious team will look up to you anymore, since you'll be the cause of their removal," the doctor paused for a moment to let it sink in before continuing, "your move, Captain."

The doctor spat the last three words into Jason's ear. The Captain's eyes pulsed with pain as he gave the short man a murderous glare. Oh how he wanted to beat the doctor until there was nothing left but lard! With tremendous control he turned and roared at the soldiers.

"Move out men! Get your equipment and head to the ATVs!"

For a moment no one moved. The troops glanced at each other, perplexed that the captain would change his mind so quickly. Cameron stepped in before his friend could yell again. He knew Jason was pissed off and it was not a good idea to be around him when we was in a bad mood.

"That was an order, not a suggestion! C'mon assholes move those asses outta here! Let's go!"

This time the team jumped to attention and cleared out of the room. Cameron glanced over to Jason, who gave him a nod, then he turned and left with the rest of the soldiers. Dr. Jensen took back the electronic board from the Captain's hand and turned to leave.

"Shouldn't you be going Captain—"

He was suddenly grabbed by the collar, hoisted into the air and slammed into the wall. The doctor dangled four feet in the air as he found himself staring into Jason's blazing eyes.

"One day you psychopathic, four eyed bastard, your power won't save you from me! And when it doesn't, count on me being there!"

Dr. Jensen was not impressed and he stared at the enraged Captain, "You don't scare me brute. You're like any other soldier in the army, all talk and no brains. Throw enough money at you and you're like putty in my hands."

Jason's eyes grew in pain as he stared at the scientist, then he threw him to the floor. Dr. Jensen's glasses flew right off his face as he hit the ground with a painful thud. Jason panted and headed for the exit, the scientist wasn't worth relieving his anger; besides there were surveillance cameras in the room. Before Jason disappeared around the corner, he suddenly heard the scientist's voice.

"Coward!"

Jason stopped for a moment, trembling with rage, then he quickly gathered his senses and continued to the waiting ATV outside. He punched a button to open the outer doors and he stomped out into the already warm, early morning air. A slight wind blew through the thick canopy of the tall trees, causing the dark green and yellow leaves to sway from side to side. Beyond the tops of the trees, the sun continued to slowly rise, creating sheets of gold, orange and light blue across the alien sky. But Jason did not take the time to admire the planet's beauty. He made his way to one of the three heavy armoured ATVs, and stepped inside to see ten of his team buckled into their seats, some of them wriggling with impatience. The Captain pressed the side of his helmet to activate the communicator as he stepped into the machine and sat down. The soldiers remained silent as he entered, but they wiggled in their seats with impatience.

"Head for location six–five–three, near grid nine, driver. Use caution and keep the motion detectors high! Let's make it hot Marines!"

The whole team shouted loud and long though the communication as the ATV's engines started. Jason smiled slightly at the whooping from the other soldiers, but it didn't lift the furry he had inside and only a bit of the pain in his eyes remained. He sat back and felt the large machine bump over the uneven ground as it plowed through the jungle.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Nearly a two hours had passed by the time Jason's team came within three hundred metres from the location of the cave. The drivers guided their ATVs silently through the foliage, fanning out to form a wide arc, then they stopped and waited for the all clear. One of the soldiers in Jason's vehicle was looking over a computer screen, scanning the area. The Captain come up behind him.

"Anything?"

The soldier shook his head, "nothing sir, not even the wildlife are active."

That didn't surprise Jason in the least, but he was still uneasy. He radioed the ATV located on the right.

"Squad one, move out, keep the formation tight and proceed with caution. Ready your tasers and nets."

They radioed their answer and the first squadron filed out into the jungle, darting back and forth, reading the area with their motion detectors and keeping silent as they climbed over moss covered rocks and rotten logs. Jason watched their red bleeps on the screen, then used his communicator again.

"Squad two, move out and secure the perimeter. You will be back up."

The second team, including Cameron, piled out silently from the far ATV and made a large border around area. Still, nothing other than the soldiers activated the scanners. For fifteen minutes they waited until the leader of the first team radioed in with his report.

"Captain, we have a visual on the nest entrance. There is evidence of the Royal Guard being there, but we detect no activity."

Jason lowered his eyebrows in thought, "Keep the area secure and document everything. If we don't get the bug, this entrance could provide us an advantage in the future."

"Yes, sir."

The Captain watched the red dots on the screen settle into the area around the cave while the perimeter team held their positions. Jason and his team waited for a half an hour to see if something would tip the detectors off. But nothing did. Finally, Jason decided to radio Cameron.

"Cam, you see anything?"

Cameron whispered into the microphone, "Nothing, not a goddamn thing."

Jason groaned and felt his stomach tighten into a nervous knot, something was terribly wrong. Jason rubbed his worried forehead and was about to pull his team out when an alarm blared.

"Holy shit!" the soldier at the computer shouted. He tapped a combination of buttons and the computer screen was suddenly surround with green bleeps.

"It's the bugs! They're all around us!"

"What the hell!" Jason gaped at the screen. It was a trap! A goddamn trap! How did they know how to set up a trap like this! Jason's eyes widened when he suddenly thought of something; the Queen! Somehow, she had figured out that the humans were watching them. The Queen actually used the scientist's own greed against him, to send out the kidnappers of her children. How did she get so goddamn smart! The Captain yelled into the communicator.

"Red alert, red alert! Xenos are closing in on our positions! Shoot all drones, repeat shoot all drones!"

He turned to his team and cocked his pulse rifle, "Party time, Marines!"

The last ten whooped as the door slid open and they charged out of the machine. Jason saw the automated guns on the ATV begin to activate as the drivers plowed through the jungle to get into the middle of the battle. The Captain joined the perimeter team and prepared himself for the bugs to come, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Barbaric screeching echoed all around the jungle, and became louder and louder until it sounded like the soldiers were surrounded by a swarm of invisible bees. Suddenly, a marine from the perimeter group shrieked and began to fire as a bug leaped on top of him from a tree. As if on cue, the rest streamed in, galloping with incredible speed towards the rest of the team. Screams from both alien and human mingled with rapid pulse fire as the marines let their weapons loose.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

From high in the canopy of the trees, two cloaked hunters watched and listened as the battle between human and Xenomorphs began. Ptar'mus and Jin had been waiting for this kind of opportunity to chose suitable prey to hunt. Ptar'mus used his unique hearing and smell to distinguish honourable prey from dishonourable; those that sounded strong, gave off a distinct odour of fearlessness. As he listened, he heard one ooman that pleased him greatly. The amplified hearing on his mask allowed him to pick up the sound waves of an ooman male, who was tall but not very muscular and from the slight delay when he pulled the trigger on his pulse rifle, it sounded like he had a damaged arm. But even with his deformity, he was a strong fighter. Ptar'mus caught the sounds of his friend's eager clicking, before he went off in a different direction through the trees. Obviously he had selected his prey and the blind hunter carefully climbed down the tree, towards his selected prey.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Cameron leaped out of the way just before a charging Xeno could pounce on him, hissing and shrieking. He aimed, made one shot and watched in satisfaction as the black armoured bug blew in half, its acid blood sizzling as it came in contact with the ground. Without warning, Cameron heard the sound of ripping metal and he turned to see several Xenomorphs swarm over one of the ATVs, clawing and whipping their scorpion tails to try and penetrate the armour. Cameron ran for the ATV, dodging bugs and marines as he did, ignoring their mingled screams. He pushed himself to go faster when he saw the guns being ripped from their holders. If the machine lost it's weapons, there would be no way to fend off the horde and the drivers inside would be trapped. He brought up his pulse rifle to fire at the drones, when suddenly, he ran into something and was thrown off his feet. Cameron grunted as he fell on his back and looked up in complete shock when he realised he had slammed into nothing but air; until he saw a faint, wavy form of a large body. The bald man's eyes widened and he pointed his gun, not knowing if the thing in front of him was a ghost or a real form, but he wasn't able to let off a shot when the thing in front of him kicked the weapon from his hands. He felt an invisible hand grab his ankle and flip him up into the air. Cameron somersaulted in the air, arms and legs failing until he landed on the ground and tumbled into the bushes along the out skirts of the battle. The marine looked up with confusion and panic as he watched the humanoid's clocking device flicker to reveal his true form; Ptar'mus. Cameron sprang to his feet, pulled out his hand gun and shot several rounds, but Ptar'mus leapt up into the air and flipped over the marine before any of the bullets could touch him.

"What the hell are you!" Cameron yelled as he shot at the humanoid again.

> > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > > >

Bright, crimson blood pooled to the ground from the mutilated bodies of the soldiers, some of them having their flesh stripped from their bones, while others had missing limbs. The foul smell of the Xenomorph's acid blood mixed with the coppery scent of human blood reached the Captain's nostrils, but he was use to the smell and carnage. Jason had just taken down five bugs with his rifle and took a moment to quickly scan his team. He didn't know how long they could last, drones still came by the many and more than half of them had been killed, while the rest were fighting to the point of exhaustion. He blasted another bug that was trying to sneak up and impale him from behind, then turned and saw that two of the ATVs had been torn to pieces. Both the windows were washed red with the drivers' blood as they tried to make a last stand with the attacking drones. The final land machine was coming close to being over run and the auto guns of the vehicle could only hold off so long. He radioed his team.

"Abort mission! Abort mission! All units pull back and get to the last ATV, repeat pull back and get to the last ATV!"

The troops that were left replied immediately as they blasted through the carnage. Jason watched the retreating team and realised Cameron was not with them. The Captain felt the knot in his stomach tighten again, something terrible had happened! He ran back to find his friend and called out his name. Through the earsplitting roars of the drones, he caught one scream that was unboundedly Cameron's; and that scream, meant he was in horrible pain. Jason felt as if he had run into a brick wall, when he beheld a sickening sight. He saw Cameron dangling four feet in the air, with two bloody blades sticking through his midsection. A very large humanlike creature was holding Cameron high above his head, while yellow, florescent blood flowed through a bullet wound on his other arm, but it didn't appear to notice it. Ptar'mus threw the ooman hard to the ground and watched warm blood pool from his wound and mouth. Cameron's eyes had already darkened over as the blind hunter reached down and took him by the head. Jason just watched in stunned silence and was totally unprepared to what happened next. The tall, muscular alien took Cameron's head, gave a quick twist and pulled it right off his shoulders, as if her were a doll. Blood sprayed everywhere as Ptar'mus raised his trophy and roared his victory.

Jason refused to believe what he had seen. Cameron couldn't be dead! This alien didn't rip off his head, it had to be someone else! But the captain knew he had witnessed was real. This son of a bitch took his friend's life and God help him if he was gonna stand there and do nothing! A dangerous mix of pain and anger coursed through Jason's heated veins as he roared and pulled the trigger of his rifle. Ptar'mus heard the yell from the enraged human and ducked out of the way before he could be showered with bullets. The blind male cloaked himself and took to the trees. Jason's eyes flared in agony, then suddenly went blurry. He knew a few synthetic nerves had blown but he didn't care. The Captain crashed through the bushes and shot wildly in every direction.

"Where are you murdering bastard! Come out and fight!"

He heard a loud howl behind him and turned to see eight Xenomorphs charge at him. The marine was about to shoot, when suddenly several balls of blue hit each one and blasted them into oblivion. Jason turned around and squinted his eyes, barely seeing the shimmer of air that appeared right in front of him. There he was! The Captain raised his weapon again, but an unseen punch from Jin connected with the human's jaw. Jason lost the grip of his weapon as he did a three–sixty in the air before hitting the ground. He ignored the taste of blood in his mouth and quickly recovered, kicking out with his leg to where he thought the alien was. Jin had just lowered his cloak when the ooman swept his feet out from under him. The Yautja flew back and landed on the ground with a grunting hiss. Jason took the moment to bring out the taser from his belt and stab down at the visible humanoid. Jin rolled out of the way before he could be hit by the electrical end and he jumped to his feet. From a tall tree above the fighters, Ptatr'mus watched the battle with his hearing, ignoring his bleeding arm and already having his crimson covered trophy attached to his belt.

Jason rammed the tip so deep into the ground, he couldn't pull it out and he suddenly found Jin's large, taloned hand wrap tightly around his neck. With immense strength, the male warrior lifted the Captain into the air and fisted his free hand so his long wrist blades sprang out. Jason gasped and struggled in the alien's grip, but he was not going to go down that easily. He pushed on the back of his heel and a six inch, serrated blade came shooting out of the tip of his boot. With a hard kick, Jason jammed the blade up into the soft part between the ribs of the humanoid, seconds before the wrist blades hit him. Jin lost the air from his lungs, feeling the blade stab right under his chest plate and through the middle of his heart. Ptar'mus barked in shock when he caught the sound of the blade sliding into his friend's chest and the grunt that came from his throat. The sightless warrior turned up the hearing in his mask and he seemed to have stopped breathing when he heard Jin's heart begin to spasm. Jason twisted his foot for the final blow and Jin roared out in torment as he fell back, releasing his grip on the marine. With the agility of a cat, the Captain pulled out the blade and landed on his feet. Ptar'mus now smelled his friend's blood and he stood up on the branch, roaring out loud in pure rage and sadness.

Jason grabbed a knife from his chest holder to finish off the alien that took his friend's life, when he heard the roar and looked up to see the atmosphere vibrate as something huge jumped from the trees, to the ground. The second alien lowered it's cloaking shield and it was only then did Jason recognised the bleeding arm and most importantly, the bloody skull of Cameron.

"You! You were the son of a bitch who murdered my friend!"

He was ignored as Ptar'mus took off his and Jin's mask, allowing them both to see each other's faces. The marine squinted to focus his vision, then cringed.

"Holy shit, you are one are one ugly mother fu—"

The last syllables were drowned out by the bellow produced by the fallen warrior when he tried to move. Jin looked up to Ptar'mus with dying eyes and tried to speak through a mouthful of blood.

"Ki...ki...kill ooman...s–swe–ear—"

Ptar'mus nodded as he slumped lower on his knees and placed a tender hand on his companion's forehead. The smell of his Jin's blood was overwhelming and it sickened his stomach.

"I swear on my honour my friend, I will kill that ooman. May the Black Warrior send your soul to salvation."

Ptar'mus caught the sound of his friend's last sigh and the final beat of his torn heart, as his spirt left him. The blind male shot up to his full height, flared his mandibles and gave another long roar of anguish that shook the forest. He turned his blank eyes to the marine, allowing his anger to boil in his veins and crouched into a fighting position. Ptar'mus was not going to let this ooman fighter think he won with a cheap shot! Jason just stood in shock for a moment, wondering what was going on, until his mind suddenly placed it all together. He gave a grin, keeping his eyes narrowed so they could stay relatively focussed.

"That's right ass face! I killed your friend and you killed mine. I'd say we were square but then we wouldn't have this grand finale!"

Ptar'mus hissed and growled a challenge at the Captain, not even feeling the pain in his arm. Jason held his knife out in defence, waiting for the creature in front of him to make the first move, when he noticed the blankness in the alien's eyes. The Captain stared at them, feeling something very familiar about the way they looked, until he gasped in realisation.

"Oh my God! You're blind ain't yah? You can't see a goddamn thing, can yah?"

Ptar'mus only understood a few words from the ooman, but still remained in a challenging stance.

"Fight...ooman!" the alien hissed in a rough English.

Jason was taken aback that the alien spoke his language, but he shook it off and he decided to make the first move, by throwing his knife at the Predator's head.

"Catch!"

The Captain was very surprised to see the creature duck out of the way of the blade. Ptar'mus snarled at the ooman and he charged at him with his wrist blades drawn. Jason yelped and dodged out of the way, feeling the wind of the blades as they narrowly missed him. He had to stop this fight, neither of them had the conditions for an all out battle of revenge; besides that, he had to lead his team back to the safety of the base.

"Wait! Stop!" cried the Captain as he leapt out of the way from another swing.

Ptar'mus swiped again and again, desperately wanting to tear the ooman apart, but be became more frustrated when he kept parrying from his blows. The ooman wasn't even bothering to put up a fight, even though moments ago he had made the first move.

"I said stop, dammit!" Jason shouted.

But the Predator refused to halt his attacks and he didn't appear to slow down any time soon, even as his wound continued to lose blood. Jason made one final attempt to stop the onslaught. He stood in front of a thick tree and at the last moment, jumped to one side before Ptar'mus could thrust his blades into his stomach. The wrist blades drove deep into the wood and the blind male roared and barked as he struggled to pull them out. Ptar'mus faced the male to defend himself, but was shocked to see the ooman standing in one spot, not even making an attempt to attack. For what seemed like a long time, the two of them stared at each other. The Predator blinked his sightless eyes in confusion, wondering what was going through the ooman's mind. He straightened himself when he heard the ooman speak.

"Looks like you're better fighter than I thought, spaceman. I wanna see you fight to your full potential! There's no honour in winning a fight against a blind, wounded warrior."

Ptar'mus cocked his head curiously, what was this ooman getting at? The blind male suddenly heard a long swish and he tensed, thinking it was an attack, but realised that the ooman had only waved his arm. Ptar'mus listened carefully as the ooman pointed to himself, then to him, and back up in the direction he had pointed to earlier. He repeated the action a few more times, until the blind male finally understood. The ooman male was trying to show him something. Jason watched in satisfaction as the creature turned his head to where he had been pointing, proving his theory; if the blind creature's ears were sharp enough for him to dodge a moving blade, then he could certainly hear over exaggerated arm motions and possibly use them as a form of communication.

Ptar'mus strained his ears to pick up identifiable sounds to get an understanding of what the ooman wanted to show him. A wind blew through the canopy of trees and Ptar'mus sensed there was a very large gap between two of them. He could smell something fresh and wet come through that gap and he recognised it as wet grass. The blind male figured there was a large clearing beyond the trees. Jason observed the Predator carefully and saw that he fully understood his message.

"If you can find your self to that field, a hundred and fifty metres from here, then meet me there tomorrow morning at sunrise. You, me, one on one. Bring witnesses, but don't plan any surprises! My men will have a few of their own if you ass uglies pull somthin'!"

Ptar'mus comprehended enough of what the ooman had said and nodded. Like him, the male Yautja wanted a challenging fight to avenge his friend's death; and if this ooman wanted a fight he was going to get it. Ptar'mus growled and gave a mighty heave as he yanked his wrist blades clear from the tree. The Captain did not lower his guard as he watched the alien scoop up his mask and bowed to him. Jason didn't expect such a gesture from the alien, but nonetheless, he made a quick bow back, thinking maybe that was his way of signing agreements. The blind Yautja lowered himself to his knees, hoisted the dead body of his friend onto his shoulders and disappeared into the forest.

Jason sighed, and suddenly felt totally exhausted. He dearly prayed that thing would show tomorrow, because if not, Jason would hunt that murder down until one of them was dead! The Captain turned and slowly went to the decapitated body his friend. The sickening odour of rotting flesh flowed through the atmosphere, while tiny, black and yellow bugs began to eat at the body. But Jason did not turn away or vomit, he simply slumped to his knees and felt his eyes grow even more blurry with tears. Letting out a chocked sob, he almost had to will himself to call the last ATV to pick him up.

_There we go, another chapter done. Thanks again for your patience and remember to review! _


	4. In the Eye of the Beholder

_Well, I'm afraid to say that this is the last chapter for this story. Thank you all for reading my story, I'm very happy to hear that your have enjoyed it! So sit back, relax and enjoy the last chapter! _

Ptar'mus stood before Elder Mer'augh on the bridge of the ship, the smell of his angry musk was heavy in the air. The blooding hunt had been completed hours ago, only six of the eleven unbloods survived and they now displayed the blooding mark of the clan proudly on their foreheads. After Ptar'mus layed his friend to rest in the Burial Chamber on the ship—where all fallen warriors were placed until they were given a proper ceremony on the Homeworld—he promptly went before the Elder and told him what had happened on the planet.

"Ptar'mus this is a doomed fight! The ooman obviously lied to you, you know how deceitful they can be! "

The blind warrior bowed his head, his blank eyes remaining still, "He did not lie, Elder. His heart rate and breathing remained steady, his voice did not falter and I could not smell nervousness. The ooman will be there, possibly with witnesses to the fight...and so will I."

He heard Ticka mumble, "What's to say he or his witnesses won't become trigger happy?"

The blind male turned to his mate, "You and the other warriors I selected will make sure that does not happen."

Mer'augh growled, "And if he does not show, then what will you do?"

Ptar'mus nearly roared, "I will hunt him down to avenge Jin! I swore on my honour to kill him and may his gods help him if he runs away, for nothing in this universe will stop me from finding him!"

The Elder made a groan and shook his head again, pacing back and forth. He had the strongest urge to order Ptar'mus not to engage the ooman, but he could not ask his best warrior to break such a vow, it would dishonour him greatly. Seeing no way around it, Mer'augh turned and bowed.

"Then I wish you well warrior Ptar'mus. May Paya protect you."

Ptar'mus heard the uneasy beating of his heart and the unsteadiness of his voice, but he bowed in return.

"And also with you Elder."

Mer'augh growled again as he left the room, leaving Ticka and Ptar'mus alone on the Bridge. The tall female took his hand, feeling her gut clench.

"I am honoured to be one of you chosen to witnesses your battle, Ptar'mus," she turned to leave but couldn't as she felt her mate tighten his grip. The male turned to face her.

"You are afraid for me my mate, I can smell it."

Ticka sighed, she knew it was pointless to lie to her sensitive mate.

"Only slightly, I do not know why."

"Because I told you he was a great fighter, he did after all, kill Jin, "the blind male pulled her closer, "Ticka, if I don't come back, tell my children that I am very proud of them. They have become fine, strong warriors and I could not be more honoured to be their father."

"Ptar'mus don't talk like that, Paya has not set the future yet."

The male smiled, "I know, it is just a precaution. And I want you to know that you have been a good mate to me, I have never been so blessed."

Ticka smiled slightly, feeling a twinge of sadness well up inside her, "Your words honour me, Ptar'mus. I thank–you."

She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was in the room and she pulled her mate into a warm embrace. For a long time, the couple stayed like that.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Captain have you lost you're mind!" yelled Dr. Jensen.

Jason ignored him as he sharpened his katana. His vision was still blurry and his eyes still stung, but it would not prevent him from fighting. The scientist paced back and forth, continuing his rant.

"Seeing, let along killing one of those humanoids is very rare! Now I hear you're going to kill another one!"

Jason blew away dust and tested the blade's sharpness with his thumb, "That's right."

"You can't do this Captain, I order you not to engage him!"

Jason stood to his full height and stared down at him, "Your orders are worth shit! There's nothing you can say or do to stop me from fighting that bastard!" he nodded to the seven troops, the only ones left remaining from his team, "and if you even come within a hundred feet of our battle, my men will shoot."

Now the doctor was mad, "By what right do you have in killing this thing!"

"By my friend's right, you son of a bitch! Good day doctor!"

He turned his back to Dr. Jensen, and the short man was about to protest even further, when the Captain spoke.

"Oh wait, there's something I've forgot."

Jason wound up and layed a hard punch across the doctor's face that knocked off his glasses and sent him flying across the room. He hit the metal wall head first and slumped into unconsciousness, blood polling from his broken nose. The Captain shook his hand and grinned.

"Dammit that felt good!"

He heard his team snicker as they shouldered their rifles, it was amazing they still wanted to accompany him, but he was their superior. Jason turned and saluted the seven soldiers.

"I wish my whole team was still here to listen to this. But I just wanna say it has been a privilege commanding you. You were the finest team I'd ever had."

The team saluted back, and one soldier with a small mustache stepped up.

"It was our privilege to serve with you Captain, no one else could've pulled off all the missions we've been on. Be sure to kick that alien's ass for Cameron and all of us."

Jason smiled at the soldier as he sheathed his sword. Everyone knew there was a strong possibility he wouldn't return. Dr. Jensen had ranted that these, Predators as he called them, were born warriors; trained in the ways of hunting intelligent species like animals. The Captain surmised he would need all his skills as a ten year marine to win. But ten years, compared to a life time of training was not very comforting odds. Jason didn't care, any odd was worth avenging Cameron.

His select witnesses left the unconscious doctor and followed him outside, where they piled into the remaining rover. Before Jason stepped in, he squinted his eyes and took one last look at the beauty in front of him. The sun was once again blood red against an orange–yellow and blue sky, there was a fresh smell of greenery in the moist air and he could hear the morning birds of the planet sing their songs. Jason sighed, he never knew how wondrous the planet looked, to bad he didn't notice the nature before. Jason took in another deep breath and stepped into the rover, telling the driver the location of the battle.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three hunters, including Ticka stood behind Ptar'mus, dressed in full armour on the edge of a round clearing at the top of a hill. The Hard Meat were no where to be seen, mostly because they were not partial to early morning light, but the warriors had their senses on high. The blind male only wore his chest plate, gauntlets and loincloth and he held his _h'sai–de _tightly in his right hand. He raised his head and closed his eyes, breathing in the heavy, moist air and feeling the warm sun on his face. He opened his gray eyes once more, keeping his mind focussed for the battle ahead. He heard one of the warriors snort.

"I knew it, that ooman is not coming."

"He'll come," said Ptar'mus.

As if on cue, the male's ears picked up the roar of an armoured vehicle and his sandalled feet felt the continuous vibrations of large wheels running along the earth. The ATV pulled up to the edge of the field and the side door slid open with a loud creak. The three hunters stood ready for an attack, but Ptar'mus remained still. Jason and his armed soldiers stepped out of the vehicle, holding his sheathed weapon down as he faced the aliens. The Captain, wearing his muscle shirt, army pants and boots, narrowed his eyes at the alien group and grimaced.

"Jeeze, you sons of bitches look uglier up close!"

The team mumbled in agreement, but the Yautja remained silent. Ptar'mus growled and pointed his _h'sai–de _at him. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin'."

The Captain made one last salute and his team made the gesture back, each of them nodding encouragement; however their eyes showed uncertainty. Jason gave a nod of thanks back, turned to his opponent, and pulled out his freshly sharpened katana. The blade sang in the air as Ptar'mus showed his long, deadly looking sword and shifted into a crouch. The gentle breeze suddenly halted and all sounds became still, as if mother nature anticipated the fierce battle. Jason inhaled deeply and closed his eyes to get himself centred into a deep, fighting mood.

"This is for you, Cameron," whispered Jason.

His eyes opened and he charged at the alien with a howl of power. Ptar'mus was slightly surprised at the speed from the ooman, but he quickly recovered and blocked the on coming swing with this sword; he could hear the hard breathing from the ooman and feel the immense pressure he put on the steel. The male felt his blood boil with exhilaration as he pushed the weapon out of the way and swung, making the blade come down on the ooman's back. Jason shifted his weight to regain his balance and brought his weapon up, deflecting the Yautja's blade with expertise. He went into a series of thrusts and sideways cuts with his katana, trying to penetrate the alien's defence, but every blow was blocked with the Predator's _h'sai–de_. Jason took a step back, hardly believing the alien in front of him was blind. How could he fight like that when he couldn't see? Maybe this was how the King Pin felt when he fought against the Dare Devil.

Ptar'mus heard the male pant and he sensed him step away. He underestimated the ooman male's strength and skill, but thankfully it didn't cost him his life. This time, Ptar'mus made an aggressive assault with a roar, shifting into a melee of stabs and strokes. Jason grunted, barley stopping the fast, hard hits from the massive Yautja and he couldn't block the last swing that came across his arm. Ptar'mus smelled fresh ooman blood, he heard the cry of pain and he took that split second of distraction to charge, but his onslaught was once again brought to a halt by an amazing parry from Jason. He and the alien fenced for a good few minutes, their footwork and balance matching with precise timing. From the spectator's view, it looked as if the two were performing a deadly dance. The team of marines shouted and cheered on their Captain, while the hunters remained ever silent. Jason gasped for breath as he quickly thought of another plan; if he couldn't over power the muscle bond alien, perhaps he could outmatch him in speed. The Captain deflected another oncoming swing, darted to the right, then ducked and rolled forward, at the same time slashing the Yautja across the calves.

Ptar'mus howled, feeling the katana slice through the muscle and he staggered for a few moments before coming back to reality. The enraged hunter's ears hurt from the jeers and taunts of the ooman witnesses, but he forced the voices out as he brought up his sword, proceeding to evade every offensive strike, until he was given a chance to cut the marine across the middle. Jason screamed and glance at the deep cut over his stomach, but that was all the time he got when the alien's weapon came down again. Jason ignored his anguish and dodged and parried as best he could. Ptar'mus shoved away the burning agony in his legs, feeling warm blood pour down to his heels and make his feet slick in his sandals. The blind warrior used his hearing to locate the position of his opponent's blade; a slight ring went through the air and Ptar'mus caught the sword inches before his face, held it, then shifted his weight to one foot and kicked out. The marine caught the blow in the chest and he went hurtling into the dirt. Ptar'mus charged to make the final blow, but Jason miraculously recovered, stood up on his knees and swung out with his katana. Ptar'mus heard the weapon cut through the air, but he couldn't move away in time. The katana slashed across his neck and the blind male gurgled, nearly falling to his knees as he turned his back to Jason. The Captain got to his feet and sprinted towards the Yautja with an animalistic roar, blinded by rage and saddness. Ptar'mus felt the tremors from the ooman male's boots and as he spat out blood, the warrior faced his opponent fearlessly. Jason reared and put all his strength into the swing, but Ptar'mus batted the blade to one side, took a step forward and pushed the _h'sai–de_ up. The marine lost his breath and his eyes widened with shock, feeling the cold steel of the weapon skewer him right through the middle. Ptar'mus shoved hard, causing the ooman to cry out, slide off the sword and fall to the ground. Blood pooled out of Jason's mouth and wound while he glared at the Yautja before losing consciousness.

"Lucky...shot...asshole..."

The Captain felt his whole body lose strength and become very cold in the hot weather. He rolled to his back and looked up to see blurry clouds glide along a blue sky. 'I'm sorry Cameron, I tried my best...' It was the last thought Jason had before his vision blackened. The soldiers stood deathly quiet, staring at their fallen Captain in denial; one of them even dropped his gun and fell to his knees. The Yautja had their heads bowed in respect, for the ooman male had fought a glorious, honourable battle.

Ptar'mus straightened himself to roar out his victory, but suddenly felt dizzy. He tried to breathe in and choked on liquid. His hand flew to his mouth and the blind male felt and smelled blood on his palm. Ptar'mus's other hand dropped his _h'sai–de_ and flew to his neck, where he felt the deep cut inflected by the ooman. Without warning, it was as if the male's strength had been sapped out of him and he fell to one knee. He heard both ooman and Yautja gasp as he raised his head.

Ptar'mus squeezed his eyes shut to fight a painful cough that was building up, when he opened his eyes, he suddenly saw dark shadowy images begin to form into visions of colour. He looked around deliriously and he opened his eyes wider, not believing what he was...seeing. Was this some kind of dream? A hallucination? No, it was very real; for the first time in his long life, Ptar'mus beheld the infrared sight of his kind. The warrior didn't care how such a miracle came to be, all he wanted was to enjoy this new feeling. He saw the blue, fuzzy shapes of the foliage and the dazzling red–orange signatures of the oomans, watching in awe at how the colours changed with the different temperatures of body heat. The male looked to his hands and saw that they were slowly getting darker in colour; how fascinating! Lastly, he turned to his fellow warriors. Ticka had pulled her mask off and she was watching her mate with concern. Ptar'mus smiled as he gazed his mate for the first time. He let his eyes wonder over her entire body and face, forcing himself to memorise every feature before he lost all strength to stay up. Ticka noticed him smiling at her and she gave a questioning look. The male could only stare lovingly at his life mate.

"Beautiful..." he managed to whisper.

With a final sigh, his colourful world went black, his heartbeat slowed to a stop and the warrior fell softly onto the grassy field; the sounds of nature once again beginning their gentle chorus.

**THE END**

By Golden Wind  
August 2005

_That's all folks, my first story completed. Wow, it feels weird not having to write any more, but the accomplishment feels great! Thank you everyone for reading my story and sending me reviews, they mean a lot! I'll bid you good bye for now, and thanks again!_


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